Collisions
by Kavery12
Summary: A meeting of great minds. May the galaxy tremble under the clash of titans. More to the point, may Sams and Spocks save the world before it implodes from sheer captain inanity.
1. Collisions

I do not own Star Trek 2009 or Supernatural

Oh yes. I went there. Because the idea of two enormous egos (enormous and egoistic in the best possible way) colliding in one universe just had to be played with. Add in the Winchesters and things become…explosive

* * *

><p>Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation starship <em>Enterprise<em>, crazy maverick captain renowned for his wild bravery and ability to get out of damn near any sticky situation, was at this moment in time considering swearing off black holes of any kind, anomalous or not.

Particularly the anomalous ones.

You see, as near as Spock and his nerd minions could tell, they had been on a boring, vanilla run to register a few scans off this oddball black hole when the gravity well in the area spiked and they had been yanked through, the frame of the ship groaning alarmingly as time blurred around them.

Then everything had jarred to a stop.

Picking himself up off the floor, Kirk decided that was _it_. No more black holes. Starfleet could send nice, vanilla ships on nice, vanilla runs to black holes, who either seemed allergic to Kirk or they were just out to get him and why yes Kirk made an art out of pissing off a lot of people but he was fairly sure he'd never done anything to a black hole, so it made no sense for them to hate him.

Ahem.

Professional. Kirk was a professional.

Therefore he stopped internally bitching about black holes that hated him, gave himself a quick shake and called out for a sound off.

Groggily, Bones picked himself up and replied. Sulu peeled Chekov up to a sitting position, both officers sporting matching bruised faces. Uhura seemed to be fine and Scotty was already squawking over the comm about damage to the engines. Spock was busy running every sensor known to man and a few Kirk was pretty sure weren't supposed to be out of Starfleet beta-testing just yet.

"Sir, we're being hailed," Uhura managed to report.

"On screen. This is Captain James T. Kirk – "

"I am Captain James T. Kirk – "

Both captains stared at each other.

The Kirk who had come through the black hole spoke first. "What the _hell_?"

"Could ask the same thing of you," the older version retorted. "Why the hell are you impersonating me?"

"Impersonating _you?_ Why the fuck are you impersonating _me?_"

There was more staring. More sensor beeping. Finally, black-hole Spock turned to his captain. "Fascinating. Sir, if I may postulate a theory?"

"Please, do."

"I believe that the anomalous black hole has warped the fabric of time-space. Not only did we travel ahead in time, I believe we have jumped realities."

The most Kirk could manage was an incoherent "huh?"

"According to the expanding universe theory, every decision made creates a branching off reality, sir. A reality in which you chose not to enter Starfleet may conceivably exist, as well as one in which," black-hole Spock nodded to the 'other' Kirk, "your eye colour is different, your facial structure differs and your career flowed differently. As is already evidenced by our experience with the…ambassador."

"That is a logical theory," an older Vulcan who kinda looked familiar but not really (Spock?) on the other ship concurred. "Given your appearance through the anomalous black hole, it is also the most likely, although for a concrete conclusion more facts are required."

"Well isn't that just…fascinating," Kirk grumbled. "How do we get back and how do we ensure it's our reality? The ship can't take much more of that. We'll start to lose hull integrity."

Spock raised his eyebrows. "Captain, at this juncture I cannot offer anything more than preliminary findings."

The older looking dude who kinda looked like Kirk but not really broke in. "I assume then that you really think of yourself as James Tiberius Kirk?"

Kirk spread his hands wide. "Take a look at our ship! It says _Enterprise_ all across the saucer and unless I've done something drastic in my sleep and the admirals have finally decided to boot me to the curb (which wouldn't surprise me), then yes, I am Captain Jim Kirk!"

The other dude blinked but seemed to be taking the news slightly better than Kirk. "Well then. If we're going to have to have this conversation, we'd better establish some sort of naming sequence or this will get _really_ confusing."

Kirk gestured grandly. "Be my guest."

Other Kirk paused. "I'll do us the favour and be James." The wry twist of his mouth told Kirk that neither of them really liked the full version.

"I salute your sacrifice, James. And while I'd love to sit here and chat, I have a ship that's falling apart. I'll get back to you in thirty?"

"Fair enough. We'll try to figure out what the hell happened. Kirk out."

* * *

><p><em>Impala<em>

"Only Kirk and the _Enterprise_ could manage to disappear out of thin air."

"Technically, that would be an impossible feat, seeing as there's no air in space."

"Shaddup, Sammy. Any sign of them?"

"Nope."

Captain Dean Winchester was trying very hard to be patient, but curiosity was gnawing at him like a puppy with a hotdog. "You say that their ion trail leads into the black hole. They've been missing for hours. We've been here for hours more. Why don't we just follow them?"

The saner members of his crew glared at him. Ash grinned crazily. "That's what I said!"

There was a quiet moment before Sam sighed and poked another key on his console. "Actually - " "We should go through?" Dean interrupted with glee.

"Yes," Sam acquiesced reluctantly. "There's nothing further here and there's nothing to suggest the _Enterprise_ didn't go through the hole so sitting here won't help anything."

"Awesome. Shields at maximum. Proceed at full impulse."

* * *

><p><em>Enterprise(s)<em>

"Sir, the black hole is fluctuating! Ship registering on our sensors!"

James sat back in his chair, watching with curiosity. The odd-version of the _Enterprise_ was sluggishly coming about to bear, shields flickering. His ship, of course, was in perfect position, waiting patiently.

And a smaller ship vaguely resembling a Miranda-class labelled the _Impala_ dropped out of the hole with a stagger. "Hail the ship," James ordered briskly.

They made connection just in time to hear an epic dressing down being administered both ways in the most amusing fashion.

"The _hell_ Winchester? Now you're stuck too, what the fuck was Starfleet thinking sending you idiots to look for us?" Other-Kirk ranted with ferocity as the new captain scowled, clearly disgruntled.

"You're welcome, dumbass. You're the moron that vanished in the first place, who the hell did you think they were going to send after _Enterprise_? _Constellation_?" Both paused to snort in disdain before the new captain regained steam. "When _Potemkin _vanished, she got stuck in a meteor field and needed a tow. The problem was fixed four hours after we found her. The last time you said you "could use some help," you were cornered by a K'tinga class warship and nine warbirds. It took all of Starfleet's Constellation class ships to bail your asses out of that sling!"

Other-Kirk had the presence of mind to look abashed. "Well. You're still an idiot."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. Who's the new guy?"

"That's me. We've landed in another timeline, apparently. Don't know why you're so early though. What, is Starfleet getting paranoid?"

"Shit Kirk, how long did you say you'd been here?"

"Four hours."

"That's _it_? You've been missing for twenty seven hours on the other side! And the galaxy's still in one piece despite two Kirks. I'm impressed, but let's not tempt fate. Sam, figure out how to get us back. Now."

James found himself suppressing the urge to snicker. These captains were younger than he, rougher, thrown into command early and clearly used to bailing each other out of strange spots. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk. Call me James. And you are?"

The new captain turned his attention to James with a considering scowl. "Captain Dean Winchester, USS _Impala_."

James blinked. "_Captain_ Dean Winchester? Starfleet?"

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

Erk. This was going to be awkward.

"Well, we weren't actually investigating this black hole for scientific reasons. Hadn't gotten this far in the quadrant yet. We were chasing Dean Winchester because we have a warrant for his arrest."

"_What_?"

Very awkward.

* * *

><p><em>Impala<em>

"What the hell are you chasing me – other me – Dean for?"

Other-Kirk looked uncomfortable. "Look, I don't like this. Dean Winchester and his brother Sam Winchester," the _Impala_'s science officer shifted in his seat, "are normally private traders, the best at what they do. Discreet, fast and reliable. Two weeks ago, Starfleet put a planet under quarantine. The Winchester boys broke Starfleet law by running the gauntlet and supposedly dropping off a cure. However, when we arrived, the entire planet was dead and not from disease. It looked like poison."

There was silence for a minute as Dean struggled to come to terms with the facts. "I have questions and don't like the line Starfleet is taking," other-Kirk admitted, "but was officially ordered to take the Winchesters into custody, pronounce sentence and drop them off at the closest prison planet. I will freely admit that the Starfleet report is decidedly skimpy on details and I wanted to question them, get the truth. It is true that the Winchesters took off without seeing if the medicine worked, but it is also in keeping with their reputation – they rarely stick around because on occasion hanging around has been hazardous to their health. Of course, this isn't really your problem unless Starfleet tries to arrest you. I doubt that'll be the case."

Dean glanced over at Sam, who gave a miniscule shrug. "Not our problem, I guess," Dean concluded. Other-Kirk looked relieved that Dean wasn't going to take idiot orders regarding someone Dean had never met out on him (despite the fact that the orders were technically about Dean…ugh, this was going to be confusing). Dean shook himself out of his circular train of thought and turned to his first officer. "All right. Sam, Spock, ideas?"

"At present, we have no ideas to give, Captain. We have been studying the hole since our arrival and when a probe was sent through the hole, we could not induce it to return either through remote control or automated programming aboard the probe itself." Spock concluded and Sam looked worried.

"We recorded no probes prior to entering the black hole, Dean."

"So we have no assurance that we'll end up in our home universe," Dean's Kirk (and didn't that just sound creepy) concluded.

"Unfortunately, Captain."

"Okay," Dean mused. "Sam and Spock, get together with your nerds and figure out how to go home. We've got some minor repairs to conduct – "

"Hey! How come _Enterprise_ got trashed and you didn't?"

"Physics, Captain," Spock replied. "There was less stress on the smaller object."

"See, yet another way in which the _Impala _rocks _Enterprise._"

"Watch it, jackass."

"Touchy, touchy. Anyway, you and I should probably help Jamie-boy over there find the Winchesters and figure out what really happened. Pretty sure neither Sammy or I would poison an entire planet."

* * *

><p><em>James-Enterprise<em>

Young and crazy was James' first impression upon actually meeting Captains Dean Winchester and Jim Kirk. He liked them, but they were young and crazy, vibrating with contained energy, secure in their own skins but not their positions in the world just yet.

"What happened?" Winchester demanded brusquely in what seemed to be his normal manner.

James outlined the situation and to his gratification, both captains came to the same conclusion James had – they needed to find Dean and Sam Winchester. "Who would want an entire planet dead?" Kirk finally asked.

James shrugged. "It was an agricultural planet, away from the Neutral Zone or the Klingons."

"What about the Romulans?" Kirk asked.

James blinked. "What about them?" Few people in Starfleet were aware of the Romulan Empire's existence and the Empire wasn't interested in playing with the Federation.

Both Kirk and Winchester seemed taken aback. "You're not quasi-at-war with the Romulans?"

James frowned. "No, we're…quasi-at-war with the Klingons."

Winchester glanced at Kirk, who seemed to have been elected spokesperson, being marginally more diplomatic than Winchester. "That's an interesting divergence," Kirk finally said. "Is it possible that this is an overture to Federation harassment by the Romulans?"

James paused, thinking carefully before he spoke. Eliminating the Federation-loyal traders and taking out a series of planets thereby sowing dissent and fear among the colonies would be an excellent way of disrupting the Federation. "It's possible. I just don't know if it's probable. Spock?"

The Vulcan steepled his fingers in silence for a moment. "The factors are in place. All we lack is substantiated evidence. I assume this reality's Winchesters could provide such evidence."

Winchester nodded firmly. "If I were in such a position, I would absolutely have evidence and protocols in place to ensure the integrity of such evidence."

"Excellent. I only met Winchester once but he struck me as a reliable sort. I wasn't looking forward to arresting the man. Spock, let me know the minute you find the Winchesters." The first officer nodded and exited, leaving James to lean back in his chair. "So. While we wait for Spock to find the Winchesters. Starfleet could be facing Romulans. Care to expound just a bit on how to engage them? I hate going in blind."

The younger-him leaned forward, eyes bright. "I know exactly what you mean! And it happens all the time!"

There was a sarcastic snort from Winchester, who was summarily ignored while the two Kirks jabbered on about battle tactics.

* * *

><p><em>Kirk-Enterprise<em>

"Perhaps we should ask my other self for his readings regarding the black hole," Spock speculated. If he were human, he would have been idly spinning a stylus or something else rather useless.

Both he and Sam were thoroughly stuck and they did not like it. At all. Two of Starfleet's brightest minds and they didn't have a single explanation for how both ships ended up in the same universe yet could not get a probe to repeat the feat from the side they were stranded on.

"This doesn't make any sense," Sam grumbled. "Starfleet ruled this particular area of space a black hole. There is no empirical evidence, however, that suggests a black hole should be permeable. Unless it's a worm hole pretending to be a black hole."

"Again, there is no empirical evidence arguing for the existence of a worm hole," Spock rebutted.

"Unless we just discovered it."

"True."

"Which does not help us!" Sam squelched the urge to pitch his PADD at the wall in a childish fit of pique.

"Receiving a data package from other-_Enterprise_," Spock reported after a minute of Sam staring dully at his data. "It contains all recorded observations regarding the black hole. Fascinating."

Sam perked up. Spock's "Fascinating" was most people's "Eureka! I just single-handedly solved the meaning of existence and saved the world in the process!"

"There is evidence suggesting that a photon torpedo was rigged as a mine near the black hole. Commander Spock was bringing its existence to Captain Kirk's attention when we came through, snared by a gravitational spike."

Silence reigned for a minute as both science officers thought at the speed of light. "That's it!" Sam crowed as his bewildered bridge crew jumped. Why yes they were eavesdropping. Was it enlightening? No, not really.

Spock seemed to understand the unspoken implication though. "I believe I understand your excitement, Sam. The theory is sound. The difficulty of course will be determining the frequency required, for lack of a better term. Perhaps we should inform the captains?"

"Sure, I'll beam over." Sam shoved back his chair and stood, satisfaction radiating from his frame. "We got it, we're going home, we're awesome," he chanted as Ash tried to bore a hole in his first officer's head with a mind-reading glare and Jo tried not to stick her nose in science business, curiosity eating both of them alive.

Of course, that was when a small, nondescript trader dropped out of warp, followed by a very nasty-looking, hawkish green ship, firing at the trader with punitive accuracy.

Sam dropped into the captain's chair. "Red alert! Phasers online!"

* * *

><p><em>James-Enterprise<em>

"Captain, we have a Klingon bird of prey pursuing the _Impala_!" a voice reported over the comm and three captains sprang to their feet and a red-alert siren whooped.

"What the fuck are they chasing my ship for?" Winchester demanded and James shook his head as all three headed for the bridge.

"Most likely our _Impala_. She's a much smaller affair, with fewer shields."

They burst onto the bridge just in time to see the Starfleet-_Impala_ reduce the Klingon ship to battered shields and a damaged hull.

"Haha, that's my girl!" Winchester crowed and James blinked. That was impressive phaser work. Klingon birds of prey weren't exactly tough, but the _Impala_ was a small ship, relatively speaking. Yet it seemed that neither _Enterprise_ had been needed. "Sam, status."

The screen snapped on and Winchester's first officer nodded. "Minimal damage. It appears the other _Impala _suffered severe shield damage and is surrendering to Captain Kirk on the condition they be given a fair trial."

James stepped forward. "Put them on screen."

The interior of trader-_Impala _was smoking, wires dangling from the ceiling, lights flickering. An older, battered version of the Winchester standing beside him coughed, waving a hand in front of his face, then did a rather comic double take. "What the _hell_? Is Starfleet cloning people these days?"

"That's what I said," Starfleet-Winchester replied with humour. "Seems black holes are trickier than we thought. Captain Dean Winchester, USS _Impala_, from some other reality, evidently."

"Actually," Starfleet-Sam interrupted. "If I could interject, I believe Commanders Spock and I have a tentative solution."

"Please," both Deans snapped and startled at the repetition.

Sam thought it funny, judging from the grin. Sobering at the glare from his captain, he began to explain. "We aren't looking at a black hole. We're looking at a worm hole. We weren't considering it because while the idea of a worm hole has been around for centuries, there's been no quantitative evidence for the existence of such phenomena to date. Until now, as your _Impala_," nodding at trader-Dean, "left a photon mine behind to slow down any pursuers. It went off, spiking gravity and snaring us at the other end. The reason we haven't been able to go home is because of that gravity spike."

Starfleet-Dean nodded thoughtfully. "So theoretically, all we have to do is create that spike again to redirect the wormhole. Theoretically. How did the _Impala_ get through though?"

Sam shrugged. "We know practically nothing about worm holes. Maybe the door just doesn't swing both ways unless it's forced?"

Kirk and Winchester did not look terribly impressed with the non-answer. "Hail my ship," Kirk ordered, "and get Spock to corroborate. A second opinion is always helpful," he finished with a nod to Sam.

Sam and Spock were still trying to answer their captains when James brought the two trader-Winchesters aboard. They were the only individuals aboard their ship, which James was considering abandoning until he remembered what had happened the last time the _Potemkin_ had attempted to convince the Winchesters to do the same. In summation, it hadn't gone well.

Dean and Sam Winchester were casually dressed in typical, generic flight suits, their clothes still smoking slightly. Dean Winchester was covered in grease and Sam evidenced the symptoms of a man who had spent too many hours on the bridge. "Get Sam Winchester to Bones before he collapses," James ordered, "and Dean comes with me. I imagine the Klingons weren't chasing you just for shits and giggles."

Dean shook his head wearily. "No. I've got a story for you and you won't like it, even if you don't believe me."

James eyed him closely. He wasn't lying.

Wouldn't hurt to have an extra Kirk and Winchester in on the powwow, just to be a sounding board.

* * *

><p>Dean Winchester had a wild tale to tell. An anonymous individual had approached the <em>Impala<em> just after the quarantine had been imposed. Sam Winchester had verified that it was indeed an antidote to the virus running rampant on Beta 8-T and they had taken the commission, delivered it with no problems, gotten paid, figured it was a job well done.

Then they were on a routine Romulan ale run to Earth when the news broke about the poison. "Swear to God, we felt sick," Dean insisted and the three captains believed him. Bags under his eyes, drawn skin, tight mouth, nervous fingers – Dean Winchester was a haunted man. "We've got a sample of what we delivered and to date, Sam still can't find a fucking thing wrong with the stuff and Sam's pretty damn smart."

"Amen," Starfleet Dean seconded, Kirk nodding in agreement.

"On top of that, when Starfleet ordered us in to face court martial, we knew what that meant. They didn't want an investigation or a trial, they wanted a culprit to sweep this all under the rug. It wouldn't get to the bottom of the problem and it wouldn't give us our freedom. So we ran. When we heard that not only was the _Enterprise _on our trail but that the Klingons were looking for us, we tried to lay a few mines along likely routes and hid behind a meteorite. We picked the wrong meteorite and overheard a meeting between Romulan and Klingon war ships. Looks like a few factions are taking war into their own hands. Unfortunately we didn't escape unnoticed. They're planning hits on four different planets in twelve hours." He spread his hands in a helpless gesture and eyed the table like it would somehow magically produce all the answers he needed.

There was silence. "Damn," James finally swore. "We're too far out to call for reinforcements in time."

"Wait, you believe me?" Dean Winchester demanded. James shrugged.

"We already nabbed that sample vial and both Spocks came to the same conclusion you did – it was indeed a cure. That means you're telling the truth, Your reputation doesn't lean towards such insane massacres and if you _are_ lying, all we lose is time investigating. If you're telling the truth…I don't want to be the man who has to tell a board of inquiry I didn't think your story worth investigating." James leaned forward. "The only real question is how to handle the issue. If I go after the ship seeding planets with disease, I allow the manufacturing allies time to move operations."

"Not if we're around," other Kirk volunteered.

"What?"

Kirk shrugged. "What's another few hours in another reality if we end up saving another few planets as a result? Right Dean?"

The Starfleet Winchester sighed. "Damn it. What the hell. I mean, saving planets is practically in our job description these days."

Kirk grinned. "Give us the coordinates, we'll kick ass and then you can thoroughly confuse the enemy, who will have evidence that both the _Impala_ and _Enterprise_ were in two places at once."

James grew a matching grin. "Excellent solution."

Both Winchesters groaned. "Just a warning," Starfleet-Dean cautioned, "The _Impala_ has yet to come out of a mission with the _Enterprise_ intact and my girl's bigger than yours."

Trader-Dean shrugged philosophically. "Hell, if we end up saving a planet, Sam will feel better and if _Impala_ gets trashed, maybe I can stick Starfleet with the bill."

* * *

><p><em>Kirk-Enterprise<em>

"Scotty?"

"We're rarin' to go, capt'n. Ready to dish out an ass-whooping."

"Excellent. Sulu, warp 8. We'll remain at yellow alert. James, if we're lucky, we'll beat the shit out of that manufacturing operation, leave you a message buoy, skip through the worm hole and be out of your hair for good. Preferably before Starfleet thinks we've disintegrated or something.

James grinned across space at them. "Good luck. If you're anything like me, the shit's only hitting the fan, so try to stay in one piece."

Kirk flipped him a salute. "Get the bastards and make sure the Winchesters don't end up in a prison planet. They'd have to break out and the last time they tried something like that, they needed the _Enterprise_ to bail them out. Again."

"_Oi_."

Kirk blinked. In quadruple stereo, that one word was really quite…something. Almost scary.

* * *

><p><em>James-Enterprise<em>

Really, the sneaky Klingon bird of prey would have been perfect for its intended job had the _Enterprise_ not known exactly where to find her.

Instead, _Enterprise_ recorded loads of information about the plan to seed planets with disease, beat the Klingons all around space and cleared the Winchester name, since they really had been carrying an antidote and the Klingons admitted to setting the _Impala _up.

They never did find a message buoy, nor did they find the other _Impala_ or _Enterprise_.

Kirk decided to wax philosophically optimistic regarding their fate.

* * *

><p><em>Epilogue<em>

"Well, that was quite a ride. Rigging the planet to blow, convincing four Klingon ships to chase us through the wormhole and then imploding the anomaly in on itself with half the _Enterprise_'s warp cores was a pretty good idea, Sam, Spock."

"Thanks, Dean!"

"It was an efficiently logical solution, Captain."

"So why didn't we use _your_ warp cores, huh?" The _Enterprise_'s captain was sulking, mourning his ship's limping slow speed.

"You had more of them than we do, stop bitching. Did you remember to drop the message buoy?"

"I thought that was your job!"

"Wasn't it yours?"

There was a significant pause.

"So they don' t know if we're alive and in our universe?"

"Guess not."

"Not everything has to have a perfect ending, right?"

"Hell no. If everything around us went perfectly, we wouldn't stand out as well."

"Good thinking, Kirk!"

There was much patting on the back, all the way back to the nearest starbase. Sam and Spock ended up sending the doctors in to deflate ballooning egos.


	2. Convergences

I do not own Star Trek 2009, Supernatural or the mystery entity that crops up in this story and I refuse to identify it here because that will ruin the story. You'll know what I mean when you find it. :)

And this wasn't supposed to have a second chapter...but the idea took off and I couldn't ignore it.

* * *

><p>Despite Captain Jim Kirk's assertion that he and his ship would never ever go near another anomalous black holepossible wormhole/gravitation deviation in space, he had been punted back to the corner of the Delta Quadrant where the oh-so-interesting worm hole resided because it was acting more anomalous than usual. Naturally, Spock was practically quivering in anticipation at the idea. To appease Kirk, the _Impala_ was tagging along, mostly because if a ship had to go through the very crazed anomaly (warp cores in worm holes were apparently taboo according to the incensed scientists back in civilization) the _Impala_ stood a better chance of surviving than the bigger _Enterprise_.

Thus, Kirk and Dean were nervously tapping their fingers in their chairs while Sam and Spock jabbered at the speed of light and gestured wildly in Sam's case. The two ships had been sitting uneventfully in space for a week and quite frankly it was making Kirk very, very twitchy. It didn't help that Bones took a perverse, pessimistic sort of glee in listing off all the theoretical things that could possibly go wrong.

So when Sam said "Uh oh," and Spock said "Fascinating," both ships immediately jumped to red alert. Once they were prepared for the worst, Kirk ventured to ask. "What's going on?"

"We're experiencing multiple time-space tears," Sam replied slowly over the open channel, fiddling with his sensors.

"I concur captain, and yet we are not being affected. I believe we are the convergence point this time and if previous data is correct, we are experiencing no less than seventeen different wormholes opening."

"_Seventeen_?" Dean almost shouted. "There's going to be _seventeen_ _Enterprises_ in this universe all of a sudden?"

Sam shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, but even if it's not the _Enterprise _or _Impala, _it's going to be the front-line equivalent. They should have picked up the anomalous readings as well and as I said, we're the convergence point."

Sure enough, sensors started shrieking all over the bridge as space literally rippled before startled eyes, spitting out a bevy of different space ships all into the same area.

Kirk was the first to regroup. "Uhura, open a wide channel, identify us and being broadcasting the situation please. Standard to start and then run through most humanoid languages, if you will."

Soon replies started pouring in. Ten were from other _Enterprises_, for lack of a better term, one being the _Enterprise _they had met previously. Three were _Impalas _(and didn't that just chaff Dean – more _Enterprises_ than _Impalas_), one was an _Enterprise_ without a Jim Kirk (which everyone thought was weird, especially given that her captain was this dried up old grasshopper of a man) and one oddly shaped little pyramid of a ship in burnished gold.

"All right, since I seem to have the biggest _Enterprise_," Kirk began over the open channels, "I volunteer my ship for every captain, first officer and science officer. No more, people or this is going to get crazier than it is. Spock here has assigned everyone a number according to the order in which you appeared in this universe. Please connect with him after this meeting is over to pick up your number so we don't get confused. Everyone from this universe, myself included, will refer to ourselves as the 'Base Kirk, Base Spock, Base Winchester,' you get the idea. Any complaints?"

No one seemed to voice a concern. "All right. I'd like to talk to the crew of the little gold ship, if you will."

A casual Kansas drawl answered him. "I'm afraid our video feed doesn't seem to match up with yours although the audio's working just fine. Sam's working on the video as we speak."

"Sam? Sam Winchester?"

"Who?" the Kansas voice asked. "No, our Sam's a Sam Carter. You know, I think we should really have this conversation in person, since we both seem to have experience with this sort of thing. I assume you're the good guys."

Kirk blinked and shrugged at a confused Dean Winchester. "We save the world on a regular basis, does that count?"

"That's pretty much what we do ourselves, so I'd say so. Do you have some sort of beaming technology or do we have to fly our _al-kesh_ into your hangar bay?"

"Scotty?"

"If they lower their shields capt'n, I can transport 'em right on to the bridge."

"You hear that, _Al-Kesh_?"

"Roger that." Shields actually shimmered around the odd ship for a minute and then disappeared, causing Sulu to sit up straighter than possible and Spock to fiddle with his sensors. "Clear for beam out."

* * *

><p>Five figures whirled into existence on the <em>Enterprise <em>bridge. "Well, this is new," drawled the Kansas voice, attached to a blond man in antiquated green fatigues with a rather laid back air of command. "Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell, United States Air Force."

Kirk tried not to gape. "Air Force?"

Mitchell raised an eye brow. "Is that a problem?"

"Well no, it's just that there hasn't been an Air Force in oh, at least a century."

This didn't seem to rattle the odd team, who were all wearing the same green fatigues. "Time travel again," a slim blonde woman sighed and tapped at a handheld computer. "The question is was it our fault or just more SG-1 bad luck?"

"So," Mitchell began again. "This is SG-1, Earth's premiere exploration team based out of Stargate Command. Not ringing any bells?" he probed.

He got a series of blank looks in return. "All righty. This," he gestured to the impressively built dark-skinned man "is Teal'c." A courteously inclined bow seemed to suffice as a greeting. "That's Vala and don't let her near anything of value," Mitchell continued as the exotic, bubbly woman with pigtails glared at her superior (?). "That's Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter," the woman looked up from her calculations and nodded hello. "And last but never least, Dr. Daniel Jackson." The taller blond man with glasses waved with a cheery smile that reminded Dean vaguely of Sam (his Sam? Ugh, multiple universes and their multiple names).

Kirk propped his forearms on his chair, leaning forward. "You've had experience with this sort of thing before? We've only just discovered our wormhole recently." Lt. Col. Carter snapped her computer shut and stashed it in one of her many, many vest pockets.

"Oh, wormholes are our primary mode of intergalactic transportation," she volunteered helpfully.

"What?" Sam (Winchester) squawked from the _Impala_. "Really? How do you direct a worm hole? How long can you maintain a temporary wormhole? How _do_ you maintain a temporary wormhole at all?"

"Sam, cool it. We'll undoubtedly get to all that when these people start helping us put all of…us back in the right universe." Dean winced. That sentence just sounded plain weird.

"Actually," Carter stepped in again, "the sooner we get started the better. We only have about forty eight hours until entropic cascade kicks in and every doppelganger in this universe starts to destabilize at the molecular level."

"Fascinating," Spock finally voiced. "And you have experienced this before?"

"I have," Carter continued confidently. "I could use all the help I can get, manpower and science labs alike."

Kirk nodded to Spock, who paced off the bridge with considerably more haste than usual, eyes practically glowing with interest as he escorted Lt. Col. Carter and when Dean glanced over, Sam was already dashing for the transporter pad.

"_Geeks_."

Kirk, Mitchell and Winchester all stared at each other. One word, same time, in triplicate. They all grinned uneasily at each other in response.

Awkward.

"Actually," Dr. Jackson ventured, eyes darting between the three leaders, "if I may," and he waited politely for Kirk's nod, "did you find anything unusual in this area of space? Apart from the wormhole, I mean?"

"What are you thinking, Jackson?" Mitchell asked. Dr. Jackson shrugged.

"Actuwally, keptin, ve did," Chekov piped up after Kirk glanced around the bridge. "It vas wery strange but did not seem relewant to de anomaly."

"What was it, Mr. Chekov?"

"Ser, it vas, vell, ve tink it's a mirror emitting a strange sort of energy."

Kirk glanced over at the surprisingly well-informed newcomers. Dr. Jackson's shoulders had slumped. "I was afraid of that," he muttered.

"Care to explain?" Kirk asked and frowned when Mitchell flinched.

Dr. Jackson's face lit up like a floodlight. "Well, I was taking a look at an obscure account of Lantean literature two weeks ago, deciphering it from its original Ancient language when I realized it wasn't just a myth,"

"It never is," Mitchell interjected and subsided when Dr. Jackson glared. This was an odd team – clearly Mitchell and Carter were of the same rank, but Dr. Jackson was most likely a civilian who had the respect of a senior military commander, Vala was making Chekov and Sulu turn a very interesting shade of red ("Vala's their pilot and cultural expert," Sulu volunteered inanely when Kirk glanced down pointedly at the cherry-red lipstick on his pilot's collar) and Teal'c hadn't moved from his initial transport point, let alone spoken. Very strange concept of chain of command, but hey, if it worked, Kirk wasn't casting stones.

"The device was a trap," Dr. Jackson continued and went into a very detailed description of this 'trap' as set by the Ori who were apparently big baddies in the SG-1 team's home universe.

Kirk got lost at "fascinating transition from anthropomorphic depiction to an almost empiric textual analysis of the experience," and turned to consult brighter heads.

Uhura was hanging onto every word but she wasn't at all tense, which told Kirk that while Dr. Jackson was clearly every language nerd's dream, what he was saying wasn't imminently relevant to the issue at hand.

"Jackson." Apparently Mitchell had come to the same conclusion. "Put it in normal English and make it shorter than five minutes."

Dr. Jackson screeched to a halt and blinked owlishly from behind his round glasses. "Um," he began but Uhura beat him to the punch.

"In short, the mirror was a trap, Captain. We triggered it when we went through the first time. In fact, the trap hadn't been tripped prior to this because it was rigged for a much bigger ship. When we went through the first time, we set off a time delay of approximately four months. I'm willing to bet Romulan ale that if I went back to my records of that day, there would be some sort of signal beacon being broadcasted through,"

And Dr. Jackson jumped back in eagerly, "through miniscule, instantaneous wormholes that destabilized as soon as they formed after the signal went through, probably something universal enough that the Ori in different universes would know to come through. Unfortunately, they were only trying to connect to our universe, not…you said seventeen?"

Kirk rubbed his forehead. "So where are these evil masterminds?"

Dr. Jackson shrugged helplessly. So did Uhura.

"All right, Uhura and Dr. Jackson, see if you can't make sure we're not about to get our asses handed to us. Take Chekov if you have to. Mitchell, think you can fill me in on these Ori? How to eliminate them? Are they a threat to the Federation as a whole? Winchester, meet you in my ready room in five."

* * *

><p><em>Uhura, Daniel and Chekov<em>

"So you're the team's linguist?" Uhura asked curiously.

Dr. Jackson fidgeted with his glasses. "Actually, I'm their resident archaeologist, linguist, philologist and expert on anything else they can't figure out but think I should." The wry humour in his voice would have had her dismissing his statement as hyperbole, but his eyes were quite serious.

This man, Uhura realized with a jolt, was at least as smart as she. Probably up to the Spock-Sam level. And he loved languages.

She rubbed her hands together. Excellent. She'd pick his brain.

"So, Dr. Jackson. You're dealing with a different set of hostile life forms in your universe? What's their root language?"

"Call me Daniel, and it's not so much a root _language_ as it is…"

Chekov slipped back to his station a few minutes later, his poor numerical head spinning in a spectacular fashion. "You all right?" Sulu asked in concern.

"_Da_," the Russian replied, "but I am not at all sure dat they are still speaking Standard."

* * *

><p><em>Sam (Winchester), Spock and Sam (Carter)<em>

"This is incredible," Lt. Col. Carter gawked in awe at the science labs. "The sensors are so sensitive! Is there any way I can get into Engineering before we leave? I'd love to take a look at your containment protocols. We've had a hell of a time corralling the volatile substance we currently use in our star ships."

"I'm sure that could be arranged," Sam replied, bracing his hands on the table. "In the meantime, you said you travel through temporary wormholes to other planets from Earth? All the way across the galaxy?"

"All the way to other solar systems," Carter said proudly.

"Fascinating," Spock murmured, poking (with permission) through Carter's handheld computer.

"What can you tell us?" Sam asked.

Carter grinned. "Exchange?"

"Fair enough."

* * *

><p><em>Kirk's Ready Room<em>

"So these Ori don't manifest themselves physically?" Kirk growled, rubbing his forehead.

"Nope. Real pain in the ass, too. If you could see 'em you could shoot 'em. As it stands, we did manage to defeat them in our universe and judging from the advances in your technology even if you did bump into them, this _Enterprise_ could probably hand an Ori ship its ass. Love to see that," Mitchell muttered into his mug of coffee.

"Why couldn't I have gone with Daniel?" Vala almost whined a minute later.

"Because after Jackson, you've got the most experience with the Ori and the nice captains here need your attention." Mitchell snapped his mouth shut but the words were out.

"Oh really," Vala drawled in a very attractive Australian accent. "My…attention. How very intriguing." She slipped out of her chair with all the lazy sensuality of a sun-warmed cat.

"ValaMalDoran, please return to your seat." A big hand clamped down on her shoulder like a cold dash of water. "We would not wish to see these men off guard should the Ori choose to attack." Teal'c pulled out her chair again with easy grace.

Vala plopped into said chair like a dumpling, slumping down until her shoulders were propped up around her ears by the odd marriage of her elbows and the chair arms. "We've told them everything," she pointed out.

"Yes, but we do not wish to distract LieutenantCommanderUhura or DanielJackson."

"You don't," Vala pouted. "I _do_."

Dean grinned suddenly. "I like her. Can we keep her?"

"That would be unwise," Teal'c said just as Mitchell said, "Be my guest."

"Hey!" Vala barked in protest. "What was that, Cam-eron?"

Mitchell shrugged with a teasing glint in his eye. Dean decided he liked Mitchell too.

* * *

><p><em>Bridge<em>

"Keptin to the bridge, keptin to the bridge," Chekov called as Sulu brought the _Enterprise_ about to bear between the intruder ship and the numerous other ships in her care.

Kirk barrelled onto the bridge as Chekov's sensors registered a quick solo beam over to the _Impala_. "What the hell is that?" he asked, sinking irritably into his captain's chair. "That is the most retarded star ship design I've ever seen."

"That's an Ori ship," Mitchell announced tersely. "And I'd get your other Captain Kirks out in their ships. More is more with the Ori."

Uhura and Dr. Jackson exited the lift. "Uhura, explain the situation to our counterparts. _Enterprise_ red alert. Get all the extra crew off this ship, Scotty! I want them fighting with us five minutes ago!"

"Aye capt'n!"

"Permission to beam back to our…shit." The first ship the Ori vessel targeted was the little _al-kesh_. It didn't stand a chance. "Great," Mitchell drawled. "No ride home."

Kirk glanced over at him. "I'm pretty sure I can spare you a shuttle, given how much information you've shared. That should make Lt. Col. Carter happy, won't it? She'll have a new project to take apart to the nuts and bolts. Uhura, have you figured out a way to reverse or shut off that mirror?"

Uhura shot Dr. Jackson a quick grin. "We did, captain, but you're going to have to eliminate the Ori ship. We need to turn the mirror loose in space and I'm certain the Ori will want to destroy the mirror so their allies can keep appearing."

Kirk pursed his lips. "All right then. Open a channel and broadcast to all our lovely friends. Tell them it's open season on the Ori."

Eleven _Enterprises_? Three _Impalas_?

Kirk was gratified to see his boast to Mitchell held water as it took them five minutes to beat the Ori ship into oblivion.

* * *

><p>"Jackson."<p>

"I can't be sure."

"You're never sure and you're always right."

"Not always."

"Sam?"

"Statistically Daniel, you're right 94.324% of the time."

"And when I bugger it up, it's always very, very bad."

"Oh for shit's sake," Dean finally growled and slammed a fist down on the appropriate button. The mirror (that Jackson insisted wasn't a mirror) floating out in space shuddered, twisted, glowed and suddenly seventeen black maws appeared in the void once more.

"See, you _were_ right, Jackson!"

Dr. Jackson shot Mitchell a very dirty glance and then stabbed Dean with the same look. Good thing Sammy used the bitch-face a lot or Dean might have been jumping at shadows for a bit.

* * *

><p>Given the go-ahead, <em>Enterprises<em> and _Impalas_ started zipping back to their own realities until the SG-1 team was the only one left standing around.

"Well," Mitchell began, "it was interesting. Enlightening. Fun. Lacking in our usual death-defying feats and I'm not complaining."

Carter was enthusiastically pumping hands with Scotty, who seemed more than a little bewitched with the pretty astrophysicist who had proven a highly capable engineer in their brief interactions. "Ah've loaded the _Copernicus_ with all sorts of goodies," he said with what was almost a blush. "She'll see ye through all right and more. The manuals are under the seats and a few designs of me own that ye might find useful. Your naquhada generator's fine piece o'work and I'll be lookin' into the Stargate design. Fascinatin' thing, innit?"

Uhura and Dr. Jackson were jabbering away in Swahili (?) while Spock and Teal'c seemed to have struck up a fine relationship of understanding, all encompassing silence, communicating through arched eyebrows and very minor facial expressions. Vala was busy making Chekov stammer hysterically when Mitchell rolled his eyes. "Excuse me," he said to Kirk.

Jabbing two fingers into his mouth, he whistled sharply. SG-1 heads snapped around to find Mitchell. "This is all fun kids, but accordin' to Carter, we've been missing for thirty six hours instead of the seven we've experienced here. Landry'll have a fit and our heads to boot if we don't check in. Let's move!"

With a quick nod to Kirk and Winchester behind him on the screen, Mitchell moved to a clear spot on the bridge. SG-1 joined him and they swirled out of existence a few seconds later.

The _Copernicus _glided towards the last wormhole with competent grace and vanished into darkness.

"That was fun," Kirk finally said aloud.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hey sir, sorry we're late. Have we got a story for you! Met the best sort of people. They gave us the most badass shuttle Vala's ever seen!"<em>


	3. Of Prototypes and Priorities

I do not own Star Trek 2009, Supernatural or Stargate SG-1.

This seems to be the story that just will. not. die. However, it's fun, so I'm okay with it.

* * *

><p>One month after that very interesting encounter with the other reality in which humans had kick-ass star ships capable of making the Ori turn tail and run in under fifteen minutes (yes, Cam wanted an <em>Enterprise<em> or even an _Impala_ in the worst possible way but they'd have to settle for the shuttle), Cam Mitchell was wandering past Sam's lab with a nice fat slice of apple pie when he noticed something odd about said lab.

Jerking to a halt and sticking his head in, he watched in mild confusion as Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter, usually a calm, contained and cheerful individual, waved wildly at the small laptop screen, voice high and agitated.

"The shuttle's much faster!" Sam squawked, flushed and red.

"And I'm telling you that the fuelling system for the puddlejumper is far more stable! Whether or not the shuttle has variable warp speed is irrelevant if you blow up in mid-flight!"

Cam blinked. Rodney? Rodney McKay? Wasn't the temperamental scientist still in the Pegasus Galaxy? Pulling the fork from his mouth and gesturing wordlessly to a very amused looking Jackson (parked unobtrusively in the corner with a video camera), Cam sidled further into the lab.

"Atlantis is making a report and Sam set up a webcam link. As long as the wormhole's open she and Rodney can…discuss the new shuttle to their heart's content," Daniel informed Cam in a whisper. "Honestly, I'm just interested in the comedy."

"The shuttle has stronger armament and quite frankly, I comprehend the internal systems of the shuttle far better than the puddlejumper and _don't_ tell me you miraculously managed to understand exactly how the Lanteans managed to regulate the naquadha flow because I _know_ you aren't capable of it!"

"Oooh," Daniel and Cam chorused softly. "Burn," Cam added.

On the laptop's screen, McKay flushed bright pink. "Yes well, at least the puddlejumper fits through the Stargate."

It was Sam's turn to glower. The shuttle had been exactly 21 inches too wide for the Stargate despite Sam's hopes and they had had to take the long way home, spending a week in hyperspace.

"Well, the transporter technology on the shuttle is far easier to understand and we don't need Hermoid to tell us how to fix it every time it hiccups." The mention of the Asgaard capable of making Rodney McKay look like a blundering kindergartener seemed to have a negative effect on the egoistic scientist, who lost some of his legendary eloquence. He took a deep breath and regrouped.

"The puddlejumper's faster than the shuttle at sub-light speeds."

"That hasn't been proved yet, right Cam?" Sam retorted.

SG-1 had been feeling a little protective of their fantastic gift (like Cam said, those Starfleet folks had been the best type of people) and Cam immediately chipped in on Sam's side. "Absolutely. I'll take you lot on any time you like."

"Really? Sheppard, Cam says he can beat you in the shuttle!"

"What?" a new voice protested. "The hell he can!" The wild-haired Atlantis military commander appeared onscreen beside McKay and glared at Cam.

At this point, Daniel rolled his eyes as Cam strode over to the webcam, all fired up. "Totally, Sheppard. Name a date and the shuttle'll show you how Earth tech gets it done."

"DanielJackson, I do not understand what is transpiring here," Teal'c stated from behind Daniel, who turned and patted Cam's chair in invitation.

"Oh hey, Teal'c. Didn't see you come in. Um, well, Sam and Mitchell are busy telling McKay and Sheppard that the new shuttle's better than the 'jumpers. Naturally, neither side is willing to concede, even with empirical evidence."

"I see." Teal'c settled down in Cam's abandoned chair. "Is this discussion amusing?"

"Definitely."

"I believe ValaMaldoran would find this entertaining."

Daniel gestured to the little recorder set on a tripod. "I'm taping this for posterity and documentation of the Stargate program. She can watch it once she comes back from P3-5934"

"Naturally." They settled in just in time to hear the discussion dissolve into sheer one-upmanship.

"There's no way in _hell_ that shuttle can fire more accurately than the 'jumper!" McKay shouted.

Sam looked smugger than a fat cat in cream. "Oh, not only is it more accurate, it's got varying intensities. So instead of _disintegrating_ a valuable science lab, you could simply blow open the door."

"Hey. That was so not my fault," Sheppard protested. "Rodney forgot to tell me there was delicate equipment inside."

"But the fact remains," and Sam looked very triumphant, "you blew up what might have been the only known manual for constructing ZPMs." The Atlanteans shifted guiltily and Sam felt a twinge of remorse. That was a little harsh. "Granted," she allowed, "we didn't have the shuttle at the time either."

"And we had Wraith on our asses," Sheppard reminded. "Better the lab blown up than in the hands of the Wraith."

Cam shrugged. "Still doesn't mean I won't beat your ass in a race. Sublight _or_ hyperspace."

"You're on. As soon as the prototype's put together, they're shipping one out here. You can come with it and I'll show you how a real pilot gets it done." Sheppard replied coolly, swivelling back and forth in his chair.

Cam smirked. "I don't need some fancy ATA gene to fly the pants off an over-confident military commander."

"Hey, my gene has _nothing_ to do with my skills!" Sheppard protested.

"Right, which is why the 'jumper flies faster for you than anyone else."

"I'm just likeable."

"So you admit that there's something other than skill at work here."

Daniel raised a hand and everyone spat "_What_?" at the non-pilot, non-engineering individual.

"The 'gate's about to close," he pointed out with no small glee, tapping his watch.

"You'n'me, Mitchell. Six months. No backing out," Sheppard managed before the connection cut.

Sam glared at the blank screen for a minute before scribbling furiously on the scratch tablet she'd been carrying around. "Six months. I'm going to build a prototype _and_ it's going to beat Sheppard's 'jumper at sublight."

"Damn straight you are. Someone needs to take Sheppard down a peg or two," Cam said firmly, picking up his pie.

Daniel stood and stretched. "Right. So Teal'c and I will just get back to, you know, fighting the remnants of the Ori, beating the Lucien Alliance, saving the galaxy, whatever."

Teal'c inclined his head. "Indeed. Clearly LieutenantColonelMitchell and LieutenantColonelCarter have no need of our assistance in this most important endeavour."

Daniel and Teal'c exited as Sam and Cam stared in silence.

"I hate it when they make me feel like I'm six."


End file.
